Jonny Brackney Poems

growing up
i never thought i'd
know people
who are dead
...

in order to be
consumed by music...
you've got to have it
loud.
...

each time i finish
a poem
i feel that it is perfect.
then i read it
...

The riddle
has been solved
the night is at fault
the dark
...

and so they writhe
in their pathetic
affliction.
giving money to the greedy
...

every great artist seems to ask
this highly pathetic
hypothetical question.
'would anyone miss me
...

i hope they come
pouring
these horrid words
simplistic, cold
...

there is a
new war

a fire within
...

in the shadows

yellow eyes
and teeth
...

what is it
that is missing
from this picture i am
painting?
...